


Magic, Magic Baby

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Genderswap, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark thinks he hates magic. What till he sees what it does to Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic, Magic Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on More than Friends.

A new group of villains had banded together in an attempt to get rid of the Justice League, forcing a confrontation in downtown Minneapolis. Superman wasn’t sure if luck or premeditation had been the deciding factor in including Klarion the Witch-Boy. He hoped random thugs didn’t know he was susceptible to magic. He might not die from it, but magic could definitely confuse things. 

Klarion and that cat familiar of his were the last holdouts from the fight, and they had taken to walking through the walls of the city landscape. Rising a couple of feet from the ground, Superman started looking for either one. The cat leaped at him from the left so he dodged right as he sent heat beams at it. He remembered and started to turn; Klarion and the cat were magically linked and worked at a team. Magical energy crackled towards him from Klarion’s position and he started to dodge again but knew it was too late. 

A heavy mass of black body armor shoved him out of the way and took the magical energy meant for him. Regaining control of his momentum he looked for Klarion and saw the cat touch him. Together and grinning, they disappeared in a crack of energy. Superman took to the sky to see if he could spot them, even as he activated the communications device. 

“Batman, why did you do that?” He was almost irritated; the Man of Steel did not need saving. 

“Not everybody needs to know that magic affects you.” The deep, insulting voice also contained the sound of pain, though only people who knew Batman would hear it. 

Superman frowned but decided to finish his sweep. Batman would have said something if the magic bolt was life threatening. After about three minutes, Superman concluded Klarion was defiantly gone. The rest of the villains were being escorted to the waiting police vehicles by Wonder Woman, Black Canary and the Flash. The cops and watching civilians were wide-eyed and slack jawed at what had just taken place in their city on a Tuesday night. Batman was sitting up, but still where he had fallen after shoving Superman out of the way. Superman landed gently in front of Batman, who took a really long time to look up. Superman’s face suddenly matched those of the residents as he stared at what he saw. 

“Have I told you lately that I hate magic?” The steel and sharpness of Batman’s voice was still there, but it was several octaves short of its normal range. That quiet voice was still pissed in a way that made hardened criminals cry for mommy. 

Superman continued to stare. The lenses were retracted, showing those crystal blue eyes that could eat into a soul, but the cowl flopped around a much smaller skull than it had been fitted to. The determined chin wasn’t as razor sharp and the close shave Batman favored had never been this good. 

“I’m disoriented and nothing feels the way it should.” A clearing of a throat that did not bob an Adam’s apple. “I may need some assistance in returning to the Watchtower.” 

“Well, Batm… Bru… Brunhilda?” 

“Call me that again and I will shove a batarang up your nose. It won’t damage you, but it will hurt.” A finger pointed at Superman on the last word of that threat and caused a suddenly huge glove to flop comically. Superman threw back his head and laughed. The hand lowered but the anger in the eyes reached a palpable level. 

Questioning voices in the earpiece convinced Superman to fight the laughter and he managed to respond. “We, um, are returning, to the Watchtower. If, ah, you need, MY help, call.” 

He managed to collect his friend, turn off the com and get out of earshot before laughing again. He tried to be discreet about using his cape to wipe the tears of laughter out of the corners of his eyes before entering the Watchtower. At this time of night it was mostly empty, but Superman still checked the corridors before entering them. He knew the figure in his arms would not appreciate being seen this way. Medical was close though, so they got there uninterrupted. 

Deposited on a diagnostic table, those comically large gloves started trying to work the equipment. Superman started to help but the gloves got thrown aside and glared at, like somebody was fixing to go Bruce Lee on them. The thought that came after made Superman laugh so hard he started to get dizzy. When he recovered the biobed was running tests as arctic blue eyes stared him down. 

Trying to look innocent, Superman asked. “Learning anything Brucie Leah?” 

“When I get back to the Cave I am lacing a Batarang with Kryptonite.” The biobed beeped and Brucie Leah turned to the readout. 

Superman knew better than to think a distraction would save him from that promise, as Batwoman’s memory was doubtless just as good as Batman’s. Brucie Leah started muttering under her breath in anger as she punched keys and flipped through screens of info. 

“I’m a perfectly normal, healthy but decidedly female human.” 

She stood and turned, and almost hit the floor. Superman caught the tangled body and tried to sound sympathetic. 

“Still a little disoriented?” 

“Grab my gloves.” The command was the only response but Brucie Leah did grab Superman’s arm and let him walk her to Batman’s quarters. 

Superman knew an offer of carrying his friend would result in that batarang nose combo, so he didn’t make it. He also knew he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice, so he settled for a quiet walk through the corridors. Sitting on the bed, Brucie Leah slipped out of the huge boots and removed the cowl and cape. Hands attempted to fold across the chest but found unfamiliar lumps pushed the chest armor out in strange ways. So when Brucie Leah turned to Superman the hands dug into the armor of the thighs. 

“That’s as far as this strip tease is going, Clark. So why don’t you attempt to contact some of the League’s own magic users?” 

Clark jumped guiltily; he had been staring at what was unfolding before him. “You don’t want to call yourself?” 

He asked because Batman usually did these things himself unless fully incapacitated. Brucie Leah still had some control over her voice, however, as the next statement was free of the Bat-growl. It was also light, playful and seductive, in that Brucie way. 

“Golly, Clark. Do you think they’ll believe it’s me?” 

Clark blushed a little and headed for the door. “I’ll start with the most powerful and work my way down.” 

“And Clark?” At her voice, Superman risked a glance over his shoulder but kept near the door. “Details are on a need to know basis.” 

“Of course.” Superman managed to smile pleasantly as he spoke; the Bat-growl had been back in that voice. Brucie Leah was not happy. Superman considered locking the bedroom door behind him for the protection of the rest of the JL, but decided it would be better not to risk making Brucie Leah any angrier. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

A little over an hour later, Superman stood facing that door again, trying to work up the courage to enter. Hoping Brucie Leah was asleep, he x-rayed the door. Brucie Leah was wide awake and going through one of those complicated exercises that kept Batman in perfect condition. Bruce couldn’t sit around and wait for somebody to fix him; so he had started learning to work his new body. Superman sighed, adjusted his vision and entered the room. When the door chimed behind him, he realized he had been keeping the door from closing, standing there, staring for a good minute.

Brucie Leah had taken off the chest armor after all, the under shirt was sweaty and clung to those lumps that had prevented Brucie Leah from crossing her arms. She wasn’t huge, Superman could totally cover a breast with his hand and he was startled to realize he really wanted to try that. Bruce wasn’t as muscular guy as Clark; he had the strong, lean muscles of a martial artist, not a body builder. 

Brucie Leah possessed similar muscles, larger than an average woman’s but not as big as female body builders. He was staring still, Clark realized as a batarang bounced off his forehead. He picked it out of the air and carried it back to Brucie Leah and the utility belt she still wore around her slender waist. Studying the room intently Clark managed to talk. 

“The others have returned, the bad guys are in jail.” 

“And?” 

“Wally is eating and the ladies are monitoring things.” 

“And?” 

He knew it couldn’t be put off, and he was out of stall talk. So he settled for talking as fast as Lois. “And I couldn’t get in touch with any of our magic users directly. They’re all out of touch or busy and I left messages with machines and assistants and friends telling them it was really important but not what exactly had happened in order to protect your privacy as you requested and Zatanna has the quickest ETA and might be available in two weeks.” 

The stare that resulted from his words made him miss the batarang to the forehead. That had made Brucie Leah feel better without hurting Clark. He squirmed until he couldn’t take it any longer. 

“I’m sorry?” 

Bruce did not forgive that easily but Brucie Leah broke the stare to walk to the pile of armor. Back in the boots, cowl, cape and gloves, she held the chest armor and pulled to cape closed in front of her. 

“Where are you going?” Clark knew the answer even as he formed the question. 

“Gotham.” 

Clark followed out into the hall and watched Brucie Leah lock the door before heading down the hallway. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“What else would you have me do?” 

“Well, I thought you might stay here. You’re healthy now but you never know what will happen with magic. Besides, if any of the magic users get back in touch, they’ll come here.” 

“Yes, and whoever is on monitor duty will be notified to contact me the instant they return. I will then return myself. I will not leave Gotham without protection for at least two weeks.” 

They were almost at the teleporter, so Superman felt justified in grabbing a shoulder and stopping the forward momentum. “You can’t even fit in your chest armor. Are you seriously going to try and patrol like this, Brucie Leah?” 

“I have other methods.” The shoulder wrenched out of Superman’s hand and forward momentum returned. Superman knew he wasn’t getting any further answers out of Brucie Leah, and he knew he would be spending a lot of time in Gotham over the next few weeks. At least Alfred always fed him well. The thought of Alfred made him grin again and he hurried to the teleporter. Brucie Leah glared. 

“I have to see the look on Alfred’s face.” Clark tried to sound rational about it, but didn’t succeed in hiding all the giddiness. 

Brucie Leah contemplated a moment. “This just might be enough to ruffle even his jaded feathers.” 

Alfred seemed to be restocking the medical supplies when they teleported in. He turned to face them and snapped his jaw shut on whatever he had been about to say. Brucie Leah, pulled off the cowl for good measure, which also pulled the cape open across the front of her chest. Alfred blinked for a moment, and Clark would’ve bet he was going to laugh. Instead he opened his mouth to ask. “Magic?” 

“Magic.” Clark and Brucie Leah responded at the same time, in the same deadpan voice. But Clark was glad to find somebody to share the joke with so he added. “Alfred, may I introduce you to the last scion of the House of Wayne, Brucie Leah?” 

Alfred bowed at the waist and Clark knew he did it to better hide a smirk at his employer’s expense. “Charmed, Mistress Brucie Leah. May I offer you both a meal?” 

Clark grinned, but Brucie Leah spoke first. “Not for Clark.” 

Both men looked dumbfounded at the command, so she held up a mollifying hand. “I’ll use the computers, if I can get access through the biometrics, while Clark does the footwork of looking for Klarion the Witch-Boy. I’ll make it up to you Clark, your favorite meal of Alfred’s or even the finest restaurant in the world. You name it, but I want this fixed.” 

“Pictures.” Clark stated, only half joking. 

“What?” The patented Bat-growl demanded an explanation. 

“If you want me to fly around directionless, scanning the Earth for Klarion, I want pictures of you like this, ready when I come to dinner. Upstairs, tomorrow night, Alfred’s meatloaf, potatoes and red velvet cake. “

Brucie Leah had her head cocked to the side a little, considering Clark’s request. Slowly she moved, stepping close enough to lay a delicate hand on the stylized S. She was still tall, but now a couple of inches shorter than Clark. The voice was soft, seductive and Clark had no idea when the cape had been flipped over the shoulders to show off that chest. “Do you have suggestions for what I should wear, or how I should pose?” 

A deep breath moved items not contained in a bra and Clark forced himself to look into those eyes. They were hard, angry and no match for the tone of voice. Clark jerked himself into the air and away from that hand. He didn’t turn around as he headed for the exit and spoke to the air. “Fine. I’ll go find Klarion instead of eating supper just because I’m a nice guy.” 

Alfred waited until he had left the cave but Clark could still hear the recrimination in his voice. “That was not a kind thing to do to a friend.” 

There was no reply. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark had forgiven Bruce by dawn, when a fruitless night of searching was over. He managed not to think about the situation while at work but now he stood with his hand hovering over the doorbell of Wayne Manor. Had Brucie Leah forgiven him for the obvious enjoyment he was getting out of this situation? If Batman hadn’t intercepted that blast, would Bruce even now be calling him Clara? The door opened before him, startling Clark. He hadn’t decided to ring the doorbell yet.

An amused Alfred gave him a slight bow. “You were expected Sir, and the security measures of a wealthy, paranoid, private citizen are not to be underestimated.” 

Clark grinned back. He had landed in the woods, changed into a Clark suit and walked to the door. Bruce’s equipment had probably been tracking him from the minute he flew into Gotham airspace, and Alfred had sensed his reluctance. “How are things today, Alfred?” 

“Humors have improved Sir, but you will be disappointed if you expect a verbal apology.” 

Clark shook his head as he followed Alfred through the house. “I was kind of rubbing it in, especially considering the kid was aiming for me.” 

Alfred stepped aside and held open a door as he replied. “Perhaps Sir, or perhaps some people need to learn they cannot manipulate everyone at the risk of alienating true friends.” 

A slight bow and Alfred left, leaving Clark to marvel at the room. He’d never been in here before and decided he liked it. An enormous window looked out on manicured lawns, while potted plants filled the room, almost like being outside. The room was relatively large but still felt rather cozy. A small table had been elegantly laid out for two, with a large envelope at one of the places. Sure enough, Clark’s name was on the envelope in Bruce’s precise handwriting. 

Sitting down, he forced himself to open it slowly, and not look at it with x-ray. Inside an expensive frame of real silver was a picture of Brucie Leah making a rude gesture, with both hands. There was the tiniest hint of amusement in those eyes and at the corners of the mouth. She wore only a grey sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of black men’s boxer shorts. Soft footfalls approached the room and Clark reluctantly put the picture back into the envelope. 

Clark figured that was as close to an apology as he was going to get, and he accepted it gladly. The door opened and Clark turned to greet Brucie Leah, only to find himself staring again. Bruce’s hair hadn’t grown longer just because he was now a she, but she had managed to do something with it. Instead of the slick cap, it stuck out in like it had been in a sexy windstorm. The black sequin gown highlighted the figure under it, dancing with each movement. Finally, Brucie Leah moved over to the table and sat down, bare feet silent on the tiling. Clark tried to find his tongue. 

“Well Clark, I figured you were going to stare, so I thought I would give you something to stare at.” Now Brucie Leah was smirking at him, glad of the reaction she had caused. Clark finally found something to say. “Couldn’t find matching shoes on such short notice?” 

“I’ve done a lot of dangerous, stupid things in my life, but wearing high heels will not be one of them.” Brucie Leah was sincere in her words, but amusement flickered across the table. Alfred entered with a trolley of covered dishes and Clark had a thought. 

“Did you make Alfred run into town and buy you a dress? I just don’t see you going shopping for a very temporary situation.” 

Brucie Leah was suddenly very interested in the food Alfred was ladling onto the plates. “Actually, the dress was left here after a party. We had it cleaned but the young lady never returned for it.” 

Clark paused before he could dig into his food. “What did you do to that poor girl that she a. left without the dress and b. never came back for it?” 

“I wasn’t even here, I was on patrol. Some of the guests decided to make an evening party a pool party, bathing suit optional, and somebody had a video camera. When the footage made the internet, I wasn’t to be found so they figured I was the camera man. I know who did it; I just don’t want everybody to know the extent of my security measures. The lawsuit is pending and the judge issued a gag order, but I still don’t know how she made it home without a dress.” 

Clark had a good laugh before tucking into Alfred’s excellent meatloaf with all the trimmings. He only had to nip out for twenty minutes to check out a bomb threat in Quebec and was back just in time for three slices of triple layer red velvet cake. Brucie Leah changed into sweats while Clark went back to his apartment and got some movies. 

Three DVD’s later and the Bat was wide awake but Clark felt ready for his four hours of sleep. He got up and stretched, about to tell Brucie Leah goodbye, when something occurred to Clark. How many more opportunities was he going to get in his lifetime to just hang out with Bruce in whatever form? The mission would always be paramount and Clark could accept that, but he could also accept the gift that was this night. He put in _Oscar_ and settled back on the coach. It was worth the loss of sleep when Brucie Leah laughed at the retiring mobster trying to shoot his thieving accountant with his bodyguard’s lunch. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Thursday night was relatively quiet, which made Clark think the weekend would be torture. After staying up all night watching movies, Clark was tired and knew he needed sleep before the weekend hit. Deciding a hot shower would relax him before going to bed, Clark finished his take away supper and headed for the bathroom. He grinned at the new picture sitting on his dresser before entering the bathroom and shower. If anybody ever saw that picture, they would wonder at Clark for having it. A bachelor with pictures of beautiful women was fine, but the image could hardly be considered pornographic. So they would wonder why farmboy Kent had a picture of somebody flipping him off. Then they would ask who she was and Clark Kent could never answer that question.

He made a mental note to take it to the fortress on his next visit, but was really glad his photographic memory worked with pictures too. He could see it now. It was like Brucie Leah had set the timer, then backed away. Her right leg was slightly forward giving a good view of a long, well defined leg. The men’s boxers were too big and showed a good portion of hip bone. The shoulders were back to better emphasis the fingers held up in front of the body, but this also showed the breasts perfectly. The face looked mad and the body language spoke of defiance, but Clark knew Bruce well enough to see the amusement in those perfectly blue eyes. 

Sliding the soap down to his penis, the level of hardness there surprised Clark. Extraordinarily glad that Bruce is not telepathic, knowing what he is about to do would earn him an exploding, Kryptonite laced batarang up the nose, Clark imagines Brucie Leah leave the picture and enter the shower with him. Brucie Leah is a beautiful woman, just as Bruce was a handsome man, so a little shower dream won’t hurt anything. 

Still in her baggy clothes, she starts in on his nipples. Pinching one while sucking on the other, only to randomly switch up, her nipples poke out under her shirt. The clothes sticking to her body with water from the shower, she slowly kisses her way down his torso. It’s easy to imagine the hand on him is actually her mouth, moving in and out, until Clark is about to cum. 

Suddenly, she lets him go and leans back, looking up at him with a cruel grin. Clark keeps moving his hand but is completely distracted by the look on her face. Locking eyes, she shakes her head in a slow negation. Clark tries to force his daydream to do what he wants but like the person she’s based on, she doesn’t respond to force. 

She shakes like a wet dog, violently and over her whole body. When she stops, it is Bruce who looks up at Clark. Battle scars make lumps in the t-shirt Brucie Leah was wearing a minute ago and the boxers are now filled. Clark has a sudden fear of death, when Bruce breaks eye contact to look at what is before him. When Bruce leans forward and kisses the tip of his cock, Clark cums. 

When he recovers, he opens his eyes and checks the tiles in front of him. Clark’s never cum so hard that he damaged property, but what really surprises him is that it was a very masculine Bruce that got him so close. Even as he finished preparing for bed, he knows it’s pointless. The new ideas in his mind won’t let him sleep. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark was right; the weekend was a nightmare and he really could have used some sleep before it began. He only found the time to contact Brucie Leah when he needed information for official hero business. Activities on the other side of the world kept him up all night Friday and Saturday. He slept so soundly when he finally got to bed Sunday night that he didn’t dream, and was grateful for this blessing. The rainy Monday didn’t even allow him to recharge from sunlight, but he managed to be bright and cheerful Tuesday morning.

After lunch, he was editing his latest story when his cell phone rang. The number was saved in his phone but didn’t have a name associated with it, just in case anybody ever got curious about Clark Kent’s contact list. He recognized the number at once and grinned, hoping it was an invite to another movie night at Wayne Manor. 

“Hello?” He hoped that greeting didn’t sound as goofy over the phone lines as it did in his ears. 

“Master Kent, I hope I have not reached you at a bad time.” 

Clark beat back the disappointment at hearing Alfred’s voice. “No, now’s fine.” 

He started to ask a question but was cut off by an unusually brisk butler. 

“Sir, if you could stop by at the earliest possible moment, I would appreciate it. It seems the young lady you dined with last Wednesday has disappeared.” 

Clark was on his feet and heading for a people free spot as he responded. “I’ll be there faster than a speeding bullet.” 

Alfred was waiting on the steps of Wayne Manor, and handed Superman a cup of coffee even as he began to talk. 

“When Master Bruce feels confined, he runs the road instead of the treadmill. I did advise against it, considering circumstances but she went for a run. When she had not returned for lunch, I called the cell phone I insisted she carry. When there was no answer, I took the car and drove the agreed upon route. Using a GPS tracker, I found the cell phone and remnants of a large truck tire. I suspect someone was transporting something illegal, had a flat tire and Master Bruce was caught unprepared for the situation. Directionality of the tread marks on the road from the other tires suggests the blowout occurred while they were headed for Gotham. The only fingerprints on the phone belonged to its owner but there was trace evidence of cheap workman’s leather gloves. The make and model of the tire remnants I recovered typically belong to a vehicle like this, know as a ten-truck.” 

Clark stared down at the picture in Alfred’s hand, stunned. It was one of those trucks that looked like somebody had welded a box to the back of truck cab. Big, boxy and with no windows; they could have been hauling anything it there. Clark took a big gulp of coffee and handed the cup back to Alfred, but he couldn’t go without asking. 

“Alfred, are all butlers experts in cooking, cleaning, human nature, tracking, forensics and computers?” 

“A true gentleman’s gentleman is whatever his gentleman requires.” The look on his face said the subject was closed and an obvious look at his pocket watch served to remind Clark of his mission. 

Clark took to the sky but made a mental note to find out more about Alfred’s background. Father figure or not, Bruce wouldn’t have been so open and trusting with just anybody. Once he was at the right height Superman started scanning for cargo trucks on the way to Gotham. Not finding anything, he moved on into Gotham City proper and found there were thousands of them. And, they didn’t have identifying marks on the tops. So he started scanning the interiors, looking for anything out of place and listening for Brucie Leah’s heartbeat. When he finished with a truck he used his heat vision to make a check mark on the roof and moved on to the next one. 

Four hours later, he was flying over one such truck as it made its way toward the docks. He hadn’t heard Brucie Leah’s heartbeat, but the truck was special, in that it contained a number of people. All the other trucks had contained cargo and Superman hated the idea that the humans might be the cargo in this case. The truck trundled into a warehouse, so Superman settled on a nearby roof to observe. 

People started coming out of the back of the truck as soon as the loading door closed behind them. Scanning the building he saw a great number of people sitting around on the floor. The ones who walked around freely seemed to be armed and he focused his vision to find the sound he had just heard. Inside a small office, two people were tying up a third, who had a very familiar heartbeat. Superman grinned in triumph even as he opened his ears to hear what was being said. 

“Aren’t you going overboard with the rope?” Thug One asked with amusement in his voice. 

“She got out of the handcuffs and the ropes the last two times I tied her up!” 

Superman stifled a laugh. If they had any idea who they had in there. 

“So? It’s not like she’s armed!” Thug One stood up and left the knots to Thug Two. 

“She’s still dangerous! What are we going to do with her?” Thug One might be the brains of the outfit, but Thug Two was the smart one. 

“Same thing we do with all the others.” 

“She speaks English. Given half a chance she’ll tell everyone she meets all about us!” Thug Two, the voice of reason, giving voice to more than a little healthy fear. 

“Idiot! We sell her to a place that doesn’t speak English or doesn’t care for Americans. Plenty of places like that, where those baby blues will up the selling price.” Superman groaned softly. Only Bruce could go for a jog and find a human trafficking ring. 

“Anybody with half a brain will take one look at those eyes and run in terror. Every time I see them, I know she’s planning on using a broken glass bottle to cut my heart out. And she keeps escaping from my ropes! All that, plus what she did to Frank suggests this is not just some trophy wife out for a jog. We should kill her and move our operation.” Thug Two was pleading for a quick end to this disaster. 

“She just needs to be taught some manners. And the places I’m thinking of will enjoy teaching her, repeatedly. In fact, a small lesson just might help us communicate with her for now. Frank will have something to say to her when he gets out of the hospital, plus I’m pretty sure she broke Ricky’s nose so she’ll have to apologize for that.” Thug One place one foot on either side of Brucie Leah’s hips, unzipped his pants and lowered himself down to her body. 

“Don’t!” Thug Two started to warn him, when a hand slipped out from Brucie Leah’s back and smashed into Thug One’s nose. He howled in pain and raised a hand to punish Brucie Leah, but Superman broke through the brick wall. 

Both thugs made for the door but strong hands forced their heads together and they fell in a heap. Other slavers were heading to the source of the confusion and Superman went to meet them. When he ran out of people to beat on, Superman had to tend to the needs of the women and children kept here. Then the cops showed up and he had to act as a translator and give a statement. 

The young officer who took his statement was too impressed to ask much, so Superman got away with vague statements about just flying by and seeing two men attacking a tied up woman. The officer didn’t ask why he was flying by, or why he was looking into buildings that didn’t have windows, or which woman it was they’d attacked. The officer also responded to Superman’s question, saying some woman had called from a phone traced to this location. Apparently it was a weird 911 call, because she had been very calm and had given the location before describing the situation. 

“Superman is beating up bad guys there; you should probably come arrest them as there’s too many to deliver.” 

Superman swallowed his laugh, as the phrasing confirmed his suspicions. Brucie Leah had finished extracting herself from the ropes and probably used the thug’s own cell phone to call the police. A quick glance showed she was perched on the roof, even though the roof exit was still padlocked on the inside. What could she have possibly said to the police when they asked who she was? Superman got permission and made a grand show of flying off. He returned quicker than the eye could follow and scooped Brucie Leah off the roof. A thank you would have been too much to ask for, and instead he got a discontented sigh. 

“I’d been watching that ring, trying to find the big boss. Guess he’ll get away and I’ll have to track him down again.” 

Clark chuckled. “You’re welcome Brucie Leah. Though you should really thank Alfred, he did most of the detective work before he even called me. Seriously! Why is your butler an expert in tire-tread analysis and fiber forensics?” 

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” The voice was calm and only partly joking. Clark frowned, wasn’t that what spies were always saying in the movies when asked about their jobs? 

“Are you saying Alfred is a spy turned butler? How does that happen?” 

“Classified and need to know, my good man.” The voice almost sounded like Alfred’s and the accent was spot on. 

Clark thought changing the subject might be a good idea. “So how did they manage to abduct you?” 

Stoic silence seemed to be the only reply he was getting to that question. Clark came to a stop, adjusted their bodies until they stood shoulder to shoulder in the sky. Pointing with the hand not around Brucie Leah’s waist, but also pointedly not moving, Clark spoke. “Look, you can see your house from here!” 

The silence stretched out as they stood still, until Brucie Leah relented. “Fine. It was a wardrobe malfunction. Can we leave it at that?” 

Clark held his position and his silence. Now he had to know. 

“I jogged around a corner and saw the broken down truck. I recognized a couple of the guys that I had seen when investigating human trafficking in Gotham. As Batman, I can ignore the pain of the people involved, telling myself it’s better to get the boss and then track down and free the victims. I couldn’t keep my distance when I realized what they had in that truck. So I approached and offered to phone a tow truck or the cops. They panicked, grabbed for the cell and I got to fight back.” 

Clark idly scratched at his head, as if he had nothing better to do than stand here. Brucie Leah sighed and continued her narrative. 

“Women’s legs hold more natural muscles than their arms do, so I was doing a lot of kicking in the fight. The clothes I was wearing were not bought to fit this frame, so when I did a spin kick that took out the biggest guy the pants fell off my hips. Thus entangled and distracted, somebody got a lucky shot at the back of my head.” 

Clark was laughing so hard he barely heard the last sentence. He wound down the laugher when he had to force himself to remember to breathe, but managed to say. “I know Batman will use any fighting technique to overcome opponents, but mooning them might be beneath you.” 

“I was wearing underwear.” Brucie Leah was grumpy, but could still see the humor of the situation. 

“Clean underwear, I hope.” Clark said with a chuckle as he resumed flying toward the house. He was about to begin his decent, when the Justice League comm. went off. “Superman here.” 

“Superman, Zatanna just called in. She is on her way to the watchtower and we cannot reach Batman to notify him as requested.” J’onn’s voice was calm but curious. He hadn’t been around during the incident so he didn’t know of the problem Zatanna was being called in to fix. 

“Bat’s with me, and we’ll be there shortly. Thanks J’onn.” Clark hugged the figure in his arm closer to him and headed for the Batcave entrance. “Calm Alfred, change into your work clothes and you’ll be back to normal before you know it.” 

“Thank God!” It was a whisper, but it was clearly full of relief. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

J’onn could change his sex as easily as he could change shape, so he didn’t seem to care when they arrived at the Watchtower. They met Zatanna in medical, where she was able to get through a series of diagnostic spells with only minor giggling. She nipped into the hallway to ‘consult a spell book’ but Clark could hear her laughing for several minutes. Zatanna returned a little calmer but with humor in her eyes, and set to work fixing the problem.

A half an hour later, J’onn confirmed Batman as a healthy human male, fit for duty. Once Clark took the photograph to the fortress, the incident would be just another of their crazy adventures, over and done. A quiet laugh and they went their separate ways, returning to their nightly routines. Batman was happily terrorizing the streets of Gotham again, so Clark grabbed the photo and went to spend the night in the fortress. 

He was relaxing in the impressive shower facilities of the fortress when Brucie Leah joined him in the shower again. She turned around and showed him a perfect butt that was, regretfully, not seen in the picture. She began to sway, dancing to a slow tune in her head. Eventually, the shirt came off but she didn’t turn around. Clark didn’t really care as she knew how to work her ass. Hands were slowly working down the men’s boxers, until the elastic couldn’t take it anymore and snapped off that butt. She kicked them off and started backing toward Clark. He knew if the image in his mind just let him touch that butt he would cum and he was ready for it. Apparently she was aware of this as she stopped a solid foot from him. 

She looked over her shoulder with lust filled eyes and blew him a kiss. Magic crackled out of those eyes like lightning and when the blinding flash was over it was a naked Bruce looking over his shoulder at Clark. His eyes appraised the situation and Clark’s arousal before he turned to face Clark. Bruce’s arousal matched Clark’s and he took a step forward, reaching for Clark. Clark exploded, Bruce’s name crawling out of his throat. Once he finished panting, Clark decided it was the picture that was doing this to him. He’d be fine once he was in his apartment and it was here. It was just a coincidence that he wasn’t getting any sleep tonight, he tried to convince himself as he laid in bed two hours later, wide awake. He gave up on sleep and went to work on some projects in the fortress, anything to distract himself from the image of an aroused Bruce. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

The next night in his apartment wasn’t any better, as Brucie Leah didn’t even put in an appearance. Bruce came to him, naked and wanting, guiding Clark’s hands around them both. The next night he got through the shower without masturbating by reciting Hamlet. He happily laid down to sleep, only to find that in his dreams the Prince of Gotham, Hamlet Wayne was ignoring revenge to spend time with Horatio Kent. The sword play they got up to didn’t involve metal and Clark had to change his sheets. He made up his mind to shower at the Watchtower where fear of getting caught would keep him calm.

But of course, Batman was there when Superman arrived after work the next day. He was working on the computer with J’onn. The Martian reached behind them for a tool and came too close to Bruce’s butt. Clark didn’t make a sound, but the emotions reached the telepath anyway. J’onn turned and stared at Clark, who blushed and fled as subtly as he could. Emergencies made wonderful distractions, so a busy Superman almost forgot the incident, until he found himself on monitor duty with J’onn three days later. He tried not to blush when J’onn settled next to him. 

“So, J’onn, how’s it going?” 

“I do not mean to pry, which is why I mentally guard myself when near humans. I could rip their deepest secrets from them without trying if I did not.” Clark stared intently at the monitors, trying to clamp down on the emotions that were surfacing as J’onn went straight for the subject Clark didn’t want to think about. “Batman knows this and tries to shield his mind from me. When strong emotions reach out to me, penetrating my shields it is because they are deeply felt. Do you even know what emotions I felt coming from you the other day?” 

Clark sighed and went for the truth. Maybe talking about it would help. “No, I’ve been trying not to think about it. Maybe if I ignore them long enough, these feelings will go away.” 

Amusement rolled off the Martian, Clark could feel it as well as hear it in his stoic voice. “Really? And does that seem to be working for you?” 

Clark shrugged. “Well, if I don’t see him for the rest of time, at least they won’t get any worse.” 

J’onn gave him a funny look. “When you first met, you were adversarial. Then you worked together, then became friends, then brothers in arms and now this change. What about your history together makes you think you will be able to decrease your appreciation of him?” 

Clark thought about it for a long moment. “Necessity?” 

“Granted, necessity made you work together. But how does it relate to becoming friends or brothers?” Clark had no answer to this question, so he let J’onn continue. “Think back to when you rescued the female version from the human traffickers. You were surveying the scene, gathering information and allowing Bruce a chance to escape. You knew there were armed killers near helpless women and children, but you went to rescue Bruce without a plan or backup. What were you feeling at the time?” 

“The leader was going to, um, you know.” J’onn nodded, he could see in Clark’s mind what was happening to Bruce. “I had to protect Bruce. She had a hand free and was breaking that guy’s nose, so I could have stopped and let Bruce deal with it. But I went in, because I wanted to hurt the person who would try that with someone I cared for. I don’t usually want to hurt people; if I can stop them without violence I do so. That’s why it is such a bad idea to feel even more for Bruce. Where will I stop if he gets seriously injured?” 

J’onn made a dismissive gesture. “What did you feel at me the other day?” 

Clark had to think about it and try and sort out emotions. “I knew you were only reaching for something but I was angry, jealous and I wanted to hurt you. I desired Bruce, wanted to tell him to get away from you and the way you were sitting so close together. I was also confused at the way I felt toward you both and the thoughts I have been having lately.” 

“And if you close your eyes and think of Bruce right now, in a moment of calm, what would you feel?” 

Clark replied so softly he was surprised J’onn could hear him. “Hope, joy and love.” 

“Good feelings all. So why are you trying to convince yourself that they will lead to hatred, destruction and a willingness to hurt people?” Clark was very glad when J’onn answered his own question after a decent pause. “It would seem to me that the anger and fear stem from the unrequited love you feel. Bruce is a hard man, but to be worthy of your love he is also more than that. Perhaps you do him a disservice by not telling him of your feelings.” 

Clark rested his face in his hands for several minutes of contemplation before he could respond. “Perhaps, J’onn, but how do I even begin?” 

Another Martian shrug. “At the beginning.” 

A chiming from the equipment called for their attention, but Clark was distracted for the rest of the evening. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

Clark still had no idea how to approach Bruce but he knew he had to have a plan. Bruce was a planner and didn’t appreciate when important things were left to chance. Even if Bruce laughed in his face or dissolved their friendship, Clark knew this was important. As much as he wanted too, he couldn’t just grab Bruce and kiss him into hardness, proving their attraction.

During the next JLA meeting, Clark was calm, composed and avoided looking at Batman. The meeting concluded and Superman decided to let Batman leave before getting to his feet. Except Batman stood, as Wally speed toward the snack table while ogling Wonder Woman. Wally slammed into Batman, who had just enough time to brace himself before Wally’s chest impacted his shoulders. Wally’s limbs continued their forward momentum and for a second it looked like the Flash was embracing Batman. Clark was on his feet and moving that way when the Martian blocked his path. The voice in his head was what really stopped him from whatever he was about to do. 

_“Kal-el, I take it time has not decreased your appreciation?”_

Clark looked into J’onn’s face and used every ounce of control he possessed to not blush. He nodded that he was in control and J’onn moved off. A quick glance showed that most of the room had been watching Batman glare down Wally, who had suddenly decided to get something from the cafeteria. Wally backed out the door as Batman glanced at the watch built into his left gauntlet. 

Bruce grabbed his computer and headed for the door, probably on his way to some business meeting that required a totally different suit. And Clark didn’t want him to make that meeting, had much more interesting things he wanted him to be doing. He couldn’t make it through the conference room without shoving people aside or making a spectacle of himself, so he settled for a shout. 

“Batman, wait up!” 

“Can it wait?” Batman asked, but waited for Clark to respond, so his meeting wasn’t that urgent. 

“I would rather it didn’t.” Clark shrugged. The desire to get it over with was slightly stronger than the desire to postpone it as long as possible. 

“What’s it about?” 

Clark suppressed the desire to roll his eyes. Couldn’t the man just make a stay or go decision without analyzing it to death? People seemed to be taking a really long time to get out of the way, so Clark had to yell back something they could all hear. 

“I have a few ideas about security measures, against magic.” 

Batman nodded at him, set his computer back on the table and went to the snack table. He’d polished off a good sized apple before Clark made it across the room to him. Clark wanted to scream at his fellow leaguers, ‘shut up and leave’, but that would have called unwanted attention to him. Instead he ran a hand through his hair and smiled. 

“The research is in my room, if you have the time to look at it.” 

Tossing the apple core in the trash, Batman grabbed his computer and led the way. “So what ideas did your research give you?” 

Clark searched his mind for everything he knew about magic, now that he had to keep up this pretense until they were alone. “Lead! Strangely enough lead is also supposed to suppress magic attacks. I know that the League’s magic users have wards and things around the Watchtower, but I thought maybe lead could help.” 

Bruce thought about it as he entered Superman’s unlocked room ahead of Clark. “A careful study would have to be done to decide if it was worth using lead to protect the Watchtower when it blocks you ability to look through in an emergency situation. Have you had any thoughts on protecting people in the field?” 

Batman laid his computer on the desk and turned to look at Clark when he didn’t receive an answer. Clark was facing the door, hand hovering over the privacy lock he’d just engaged. He spoke to the door, not ready to face the questions behind that cowl. 

“That day with Klarion, I remember thinking how magic can confuse things. But it turns out, it clarified a few things in my mind.” Clark sighed and turned around, he knew what he was about to say had to have eye contact with it. “I love you, Bruce, have for a while now. I was fine with how things were between us, until you were a woman. A sexy woman and I thought about having sex with you. It dawned on me that I want to have a sexual relationship with you. Not your female body, but you and everything you are. The growling, relentless bat, the empty headed rich boy who accidently manages to run his company and you, the person you are when you’re neither of them.” 

Clark waited, but the dark figure was maddeningly silent. An outright rejection would have almost been better than that cruel silence. Clark stepped forward slowly, taking his time with each step, planning on stopping when Bruce responded. Not a muscle twitched, not a word emerged until Clark was standing close enough to kiss him. Clark started to lean in for that kiss, when a gloved hand rested on his chest. Bruce spoke out from under that cowl and the regret showing in those eyes made Clark’s knees weak. 

“That night in the cave, you and Alfred thought I was trying to seduce and manipulate you into helping me. I wasn’t, I forgot Alfred was there, I was actually trying to seduce you. You seemed interested and I was willing to take you however I could.” 

Clark wanted to believe that but had one concern that had to be addressed. “But your eyes were cold and calculating, once I saw past the anger.” 

“What, you can’t feel more than one emotion at a time?” The bat-growl was back, an instinctive protective measure. Clark sighed and pulled the cowl away from Bruce’s face. Bruce realized what he had just done and shrugged a little. “I was angrier at Klarion than I was turned on, and I was calculating what your responses might be to my suggestion. Brucie is the one that can seduce with a look, not me.” 

Clark grinned, believing Bruce. “The look you’re giving me now would suggest otherwise.” 

Bruce scrunched up his face a little as he thought about it. “What look is that, Clark?” 

Clark traced a finger through a wrinkled brow. “One of naked, open honesty. You hardly ever look like that, Batman hides everything. Even vacant Brucie looks like he’s hiding something, though it’s probably inane.” 

“You realize this is a bad idea that will seriously complicate things, right?” The tone of voice was asking for proof that Clark had thought this through but it didn’t suggest they stop. Clark went with that, and leaned into a kiss. 

There was a moment of resistance, where the kiss felt like an experiment but before Clark could feel disappointment, Bruce changed tactics. He started attacking Clark’s mouth, forcing their heads together with rough hands and prying Clark’s mouth open with his tongue. Just when Clark decided he could do this forever, Bruce was shoving him away. Clark’s surprise made his limbs slacken and allowed Bruce to escape. A few breaths to recover and calm himself and Clark turned to find Bruce half out of his armor. Clark was expecting a longer courtship before he found a half naked Bruce on his bed, but sometimes you had to be willing to roll with the punches. Bruce saw his silly grin, and chose to misinterpret it. 

“If we are going to do this, you don’t get to go around ripping off my body armor. This stuff is expensive and I have to hide in on the books. Most people think I’m made of money, but you get that way by not throwing it away just because you get a little overheated.” Bruce stood up to pull off his pants and scowled at Clark. “Why aren’t you naked yet? Do you want me to rip off your uniform?” 

Clark made it out of his uniform so fast he was treated to the sight of Bruce’s erection popping out of his pants. It was hidden behind underwear and after the lecture he had just received, Clark couldn’t resist the impulse. So he stepped over and ripped the underwear off before Bruce could remove it. 

“Not body armor, so not covered under the no ripping clause.” 

Clark was rewarded with a glare that was really ineffective when mixed with the desire in those expressive eyes. Then Bruce grabbed him and threw him to the bed, landing on top of him. Clark only had the vaguest notion of what to do, but Bruce knew because Bruce knew everything. Clark lost his triumphant grin when Bruce ground into him and milked his cock for pre-cum. Then there were slick fingers where there had never been fingers before and fireworks started exploding in his back entrance. When Bruce removed those fingers he tried to force them back, doubtless bruising Bruce in his need. While his hands were distracted, something else sought entrance and the fireworks came back. After a too brief eternity the fireworks of orgasm blinded his eyes. 

Clark closed his eyes and waited for his breathing to return to normal. Everything felt so good, so right he knew he would be able to sleep now, and sleep better than he ever had in his life. It was only fair that the Bruce that could drive him so insane could also make him feel this content. Only fair that they staid this way forever, Clark grinned at the idea and hugged the figure in his arms closer. 

“Oh, no you don’t.” Growled a voice nestled near his throat. 

A hand glided down through their bodies, which seemed to be stuck together, as was fitting to Clark’s mind. A gentle hand found his penis, traced the split in the tip to the underside, and pinched. Clark yelped and tried to distance himself from that cruel touch, only to realize he had been floating as a smirking Bruce landed on the bed. Clark looked at his penis, trying to figure out how Bruce had made it feel that way. Bruce was using a bottle of water and the remains of his underwear to clean himself up. He wetted the clean half and tossed it to Clark before getting back into his armor. Clark settled on the bed and watched. 

“What was that for?” He asked, sounding more petulant than he expected. 

“You were about to go to sleep, and if I hurry I can still put in an appearance at the meeting.” 

“What exactly did you do to me?” 

“It’s called the frenulum of prepuce, look it up. I just wanted to get your attention; I know what to do to it to make you forget all about that little pinch. But that will have to wait.” The cowl was back up, so it was Batman who promised future meetings and leaned in to kiss Clark. 

This kiss was demanding, controlling and left Clark half hard and gasping. Batman stalked out of the room and Clark understood he wasn’t going to get to sleep now. It seems he had research to do. He grinned and settled at the computer, human anatomy was about to become his favorite subject. 


End file.
